First Time
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Joanne's going on her first date with a girl, and she is insanely nervous. This reads like a chick flick/novel of the worst kind, but I DON'T CARE. And just so we all know...all the reviews so far have awww in them.


**this story was written for Tina's Challenges, which Tina101 is in charge of. It is here. Read it. Booya.**

"Calm down, Jo. Its okay, girl, it's just a date…a little date. Nothing big, nothing fancy, just a…date." Joanne stared into her bedroom mirror. She frowned in the way that always made her nose look like a pug's. Her first date…well, not her first real date. Her first _date_ date. Her first date with a girl.

This is it, Joanne, she though as she adjusted the clip in her hair. This is the day you stop declaring to everyone but your parents that you're a lesbian and you actually _do_ something with another girl. And Joanne really, really wanted something to happen. Ever since she had realized where her attractions lay, Joanne had been professing her lesbian identity to everyone she knew…besides her parents. At first, it had caused a stir. Joanne Jefferson, a lesbian? That girl whose parents wear suits all day and have her picked up by car from school? That girl who wears a skirt to school each day (that one wasn't her fault; her parents made her)? _That_ Joanne Jefferson?

But then it had died down. And three days ago, her best friend Max had told her irritably that the school was tired of hearing about how much she liked girls and that she just go on and ask one out. Joanne, indignant and secretly embarrassed, asked Tracy Daniels out that very day. Tracy was edgy; she was among the other "out" lesbians at Joanne's school, but she didn't make a point of telling the world each day like Joanne did. Still, to Joanne's surprise, Tracy had said yes. And tonight was the night. The night she would finally understand why she was the way she was.

Joanne pushed two silver dangly earrings through the holes in her ears. Then she took a few steps back and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Even she had to admit it; she looked good. Her black tank top was just tight enough, and her hair seemed to be caught in that perfect breeze that blows models' hair back. Her dark skin glowed with the power of countless assorted creams and lotions. When she took a step, her high heeled (slightly) sandals bent marvelously with her. A thin silver bangle jingled on her wrist. She was dressed to kill.

Grabbing her purse, Joanne made her way carefully down the stairs to the living room. Neither of her parents had ever been too involved in her life, though she knew they cared for her. Still, it paid to have a mother who didn't squeal and whip out the camera every time a boy (or girl) came over; and a father who didn't scowl at and grill anyone who wanted to go anywhere with his daughter. Joanne felt safe around them. Why she hadn't told them about being a lesbian yet was a mystery to her. Maybe deep down, she was afraid that rocking the boat like that would create ripples in the peaceful, albeit rather impersonal relationship that she and her parents had always shared.

Her mother was still at the office; only Joanne's father was at home. He was sitting on the couch, reading a paper and smoking a pipe (Joanne never understood how her father could be the only man in their town who still smoked a pipe instead of cigars or cigarettes). As she moved into the living room, he looked up briefly, then turned back to his paper. Joanne felt a small pang of disappointment, which disappeared into her nervousness. Was her breath okay? Had she shaved under her arms? For the love of god, _why_ was her hand twitching like that?

The six minutes until Tracy came were pure agony. Joanne tried to sit down, but couldn't be still for that long. She began to pace; back and forth across the living room, then in circuit laps. Her father finally looked up again as she padded past him on the plush carpet.

"Something wrong, Kitten?"

"Don't call me Kitten," she said automatically. It was a war between them, a small war but a war nonetheless. He shrugged and took her demand in stride.

"You look very pretty," he said, finally noticing. Joanne prickled with pride in spite of herself. She cocked her head nonchalantly.

"I guess…"

"Going anywhere special?"

"Um…just a night out with someone." He raised an eyebrow. For a moment, she wanted him to question her, wanted him to take an interest in her life. But then he sighed and looked back at the paper.

The doorbell rang and Joanne nearly hit the ceiling. Her chest heaving with nerves, she went to the door and opened it. Tracy was standing casually on the modern porch of her house, winding a strand of silky blond hair around one finger. A cigarette was held delicately between two of her fingers.

"Hey," Tracy said softly, her eyes traveling up and down Joanne. Joanne blushed and tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace.

"Hi…" They both stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Then Tracy gave a small smile.

"Shall we go?" Joanne nodded in relief. Tracy turned and led Joanne down the front walk to a shiny silver sports car. Joanne's eyes widened as Tracy went around and (very politely, actually) opened the door for her.

"Wow…this is a really nice car," Joanne said without thinking. Tracy laughed slightly.

"Not mine. My dad's. He got it three months ago from a dealer in California. Sometimes I think that he'd rather have the car than me, he loves it that much." Joanne nodded and got into the car, forcing herself to calm down. She had been on a date before; several dates, all with boys who she had liked well enough, just not…_that_ way. Up until now, Tracy was just a date. Now Joanne was contemplating her actual feelings for the girl. Tracy went around the other side and got in, casually buckling up. Joanne did the same. Tracy smiled that same small smile and started the car.

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Joanne felt somewhat overwhelmed. The nerves had been bad enough; now there was music and movement and dim lights to confuse her. Tracy had taken her to a sort of low-key club. The music wasn't pounding, and though there was dancing, it wasn't wild or scary, like Joanne had seen on that one night when she and Max had ventured into a big club downtown. This place was a lot better; nicer, even. She should be enjoying herself.

But she wasn't. Tracy was talking to the waiter (who was wearing a t-shirt), and Joanne was desperately trying to think of conversation. What could she say that wasn't incredibly geeky?

"Hey, what do you want to drink?" Tracy's question brought her out of her thoughts. Joanne shrugged.

"Um…what're you having?"

"Millers. Light, since I'm going to being driving again."

"I'll have that then." Tracy nodded and spoke to the waiter again. Joanne took a deep breath. That wasn't so hard…

"So…Tracy had turned back to her, absently brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. Joanne's eyes followed the hair as it fell back from Tracy's face, rejoining the tumbling waterfall of yellow that streamed down her back.

"What's up?" Tracy sounded calm and collected. Joanne knew she must seem funny to Tracy, so flustered and uncertain. She tried to stop spazzng out.

"Um…nothing much. You?" Tracy shrugged and reached into her purse. She drew out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out for herself and then offering the pack to Joanne.

"Smoke?"

"Oh, I—no, thanks." Tracy smiled and drew out a lighter, expertly clicking her thumb down to draw out the flame. She held it to the tip of her cigarette, the let the fire die and took a deep drag, causing the tip to glow red. She blew out a stream of thin, smoke. Joanne watched it waft to the ceiling.

"You're a total newbie, aren't you?" Tracy said with almost obvious amusement. Joanne jumped as though Tracy had shouted.

"What…what do you mean?"

"Have you ever kissed a girl? Ever?" Tracy took another drag. Joanne tried not the gag on the smoke.

"Um…not really…"

"Ever been on a date with a girl? Danced with a girl? Held hands with a girl?" Joanne stared at Tracy for a moment. She could lie and say yes. Or she could tell the truth.

"Yeah…sure I have." Tracy grinned. The waiter came and brought their drinks. Tracy took a small sip of hers. Joanne did the same and struggled not to wince. It tasted like sour sap.

"Uh huh." Tracy looked extremely skeptical. She leaned forward, delicately resting her elbows on the table.

"Listen, girl. I've been there. I know what it's like to be new at all of this. You're not sure what's going on, and you're pretty freaked out by it. You don't know if it'll last, and if it does, what you'll do. And you don't know if you'll be able to make it. Hell, my first date, I was a total mess. And trust me; my date was definitely not as understanding as I am." Tracy blew a small smoke ring. It drifted over Joanne's head, spreading like a slowly exploding firecracker before disappearing into the dimly lit air.

"You…you were freaked out too?" Joanne asked, slightly amazed. Tracy seemed so together, so comfortable. That she had ever been as agitated and embarrassed as Joanne felt now was hard to believe. Tracy nodded and raised an eyebrow.

"Yup. Sacred out of my life. I'll give you credit for keeping your mouth shut. I talked a mile a minute about anything I could think of; my dog, my family, my bike, whatever. She ditched me after twenty minutes, and I don't blame her. But you have to believe me, Joanne. It'll get better." Tracy gently put one hand on Joanne's. Joanne shuddered at the touch. Sparks played across her skin. Tracy's smile widened slightly.

"You'll feel more comfortable as time goes on. You'll be able to even have fun once in a while." Joanne smiled in spite of herself. She knew how lucky she was to have someone who wasn't ashamed to talk about stuff like this with her. Tracy was kind enough to give Joanne a warning and some hope. That was more than she could have ever expected.

"I hope so." Joanne took another sip of beer and managed to swallow it without feeling nauseous. Tracy nodded approvingly.

"Good girl. You know you will. Now come on, we're going to start loosening you up." And before Joanne could do a thing, Tracy took her hand and stood up, drawing a surprised and strangely willing Joanne out into the dance floor.

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"Here's my house. That one with the daffodils on the lawn…"

"I know. Here, I'll walk you to the door." Joanne nodded happily. She got rather unsteadily out of the car, a smile on her face. The date had been wonderful, once Tracy had broken through her shell of freaked-outedness. They had danced for ages (Joanne was surprised to find she actually knew how to) and then Tracy had led her back to the table to order food. While they waited for it and later ate, the two talked easily about different things; school, friends, parents, and even a little more about being a lesbian in their neighborhood. Joanne was ridiculously relieved that she hadn't thrown up or run out. She had actually made it.

The beer inside her—she had finished the whole glass—made her footing rather uncertain, and Tracy had to take her arm to help her to the door. They went up the porch steps, walked to the door, and—

Joanne found herself at a loss. What was she supposed to do? Wave and walk inside? Shake her hand? _Kiss_ her?

Instead of all these things, Joanne heard herself saying, "Thanks. And not just for the date, even though it was really fun…but also for just talking to me. About…you know. You really made me feel a lot better." Tracy smiled her little smile.

"It's the least I can do. I'm just glad that you had an easier first date than I did." Joanne laughed slightly and nodded.

"Tonight was really fun. Thanks agai—" Joanne wasn't able to finish her sentence. Tracy cut her off by kissing her.

Joanne felt as though her entire body had gone numb. Then all of a sudden the numbness dissolved, and then it felt like every part of her was being pricked with pins and needles. It was all she could do to focus enough to kiss Tracy back.

Joanne wasn't sure who would have pulled away from the kiss first. Nor would she ever know for certain, since at that moment the door opened and her mother stood there, still wearing her work suit and holding a cup of coffee. Joanne and Tracy separated quickly, though not fast enough to keep Joanne's mother from seeing what had obviously occurred. Tracy, still calm, smiled at Mrs. Jefferson, who was standing stock still in the door. Then she turned to Joanne and nodded.

"I'll see you around," she said softly, and with that she headed back to her little silver car. Joanne and her mother watched her drive away. Then Joanne, her cheeks blazing, pushed rather roughly past her mother into the house. Mrs. Jefferson moved aside silently.

"Ok…you know now," Joanne said, her voice cracking. Before her mother could say a word, she charged up the stairs, trying to get to her room with what little dignity she had left.

Joanne threw herself onto her bed, front first. What an end to what had been such a nice evening…She felt like crying. Her mother knew now, and who could tell what she might do…Joanne buried her face in the covers, not caring if her makeup smeared onto the sheets.

"Joanne?" she heard from behind her. She looked over her shoulder; it was her mother, standing tentatively in the doorway. The coffee cup was gone. Joanne moaned and let her head sink back into the comforter. Here it comes, she thought…

"Um…I'm sorry if you're upset that I saw you with that girl." Her mother's footsteps padded softly into the room, and Joanne could tell by her voice that she standing by Joanne's feet. "I didn't mean to cause you any embarrassment. I hope you're feeling all right." Silence for a moment. "Well…I'll leave now." She heard the footsteps start to move away. Joanne could control herself. She sat up and turned to look at her mother.

"That's it?" Mrs. Jefferson turned and stared perplexedly at her daughter. Joanne could see that she really had meant for that to be the end of their communications.

"What do you mean, Joanne?"

"I mean…aren't you going to chew my out about not telling you that I…well, that I'm a lesbian?" Her mother raised an eyebrow.

"Why would I do that?" Joanne shrugged, feeling confused herself. This felt so awkward and weird…it was times like that that she wished her mother and her were closer, that they talked more and knew more about each other. Maybe then her mother might take the time to be with her.

"I dunno…do you even care?" Her mother sighed and came towards Joanne, finally sitting on the edge of the bed by Joanne's feet. Her mother was close and warm…Joanne felt a little better.

"Of course I care, baby. I just…well, I'm not sure how to handle it. I certainly don't see anything wrong with you feeling the way you choose to feel. I trust you to make good and well thought-out decisions, Joanne. If this is the way you want to be, who am I to stand in your way?" Joanne stared at her mother. This was…easy. Fine. Simple. It felt actually good.

"Oh…thanks then, Mom." Her mother nodded and smiled, reaching out to squeeze Joanne's ankle. They touched so little; even minimal contact like that meant something special. Joanne watched as her mother got up to leave. She stopped her as she was moving through the doorway.

"Um, Mom?"

"Yes, baby?" Mrs. Jefferson turned to look at her.

"Are you going to tell Dad?"

"Well…yes, I think I will. I can't keep secrets like that from him. And besides, I don't think it will bother him at all. He has the same views as I do."

"Okay…great. Thanks again." Mrs. Jefferson nodded and disappeared down the hall. Joanne sat up and looked at her ceiling, smiling slightly. She felt good. Really good. Now that the problem of her parents knowing about the whole thing was gone, Joanne could focus on what really mattered.

Remembering that kiss she had shared with Tracy.

**weee...I like writing about Joanne. She's fun.**


End file.
